The cyclops moon does not blink in the foggy night. Its soft bright beacon of watch does not falter in the dense air, it does not diminish with the rush of the city, it does not flash with the focus of a new trend. Steady and stern the giant eye in sky keeps peaceful watch over the tenacity of the ants below, we mutually dance in energetic excitement of the Mr. Moon and his charismatic gaze.
Halloween is the one chance you get during the long year to embrace a character in your personality that doesn’t fit into the daily routine. It is the opportunity to search the corners of your character and augment an aspect that normally goes unnoticed. You are not exactly this thing that you are representing today, but also you are not the embodiment of said character. Appreciate your own irony, be happy about the complexity of your morale. Halloween is the chance to explore a part of your soul that has largely not been introduced to society. It is a whimsical experiment to help you continue to define your fluid identity.
Halloween is a time to face the morality of yourself. Life is about living, but society is about fitting in. It is good to be a part of the community and beat the same drum line as everyone else. But we get carried away with this cultural assimilation, we get so swept up in the tide of routine, fashion, and convenience, that it is hard to be separate and twinkle like an individual star. Thus, this American holiday is the time to embrace the parts that maybe you want to change, maybe be the person who you can’t be in the normal life. It is the chance to be the something that you are not before you shuffle off the mortal coil.
This year, I choose to be the villain in the story, yet lover to the superhero, defender of mother nature through questionable and dangerous tactics. Suitingly ironic for yours truly. This year, I will dress as perhaps a feminist role model, Poison Ivy.
She is amazingly captivating, her role dualistic, her motives compassionate. Poison Ivy is the nemesis of batman, and yet if it wasn’t for her Achilles heel attraction to the Dark Night, she would have prevailed in poisoning the powerful man with a simple kiss. That power is so romantic, feminine, and seductive.
Her super power exists in something greater than the muscle of Batman. Her power is in the botanical knowledge of the genetical makeup of plants to create super poisons and venomous potions. She manipulates natural toxins for evil. She uses mind controlling pheromones to hypnotize her enemies. I don’t believe in physical violence either, Miss Ivy.
She is ultimately trying to destroy your superhero for the benefit of the world at large. Her motivation is to protect the natural environment. We have demonstrated time and time again that we as humans and as a first world nation cannot be counted on to be aware of the one world we are given. We don’t even recycle, let alone protect out precious resources, we let water run beyond marathon status, we create trash like we consume television. Non stop. We are so focused on our daily bread that we are not considering the future of this amazing plant. I do wish we had a villain that would do it for us before nature has her way. Nature is not compassionate like Miss Ivy. Nature will not save our modern-day hero, she is going to choke us all out.
I am poison ivy because everything I touch gets an icy chill. My touch is poisonous, my motives dark, my seduction daring. My fame is occult. My weapon of choice is natural.
I am an eco-terrorist today to console my hippie soul.
The watchful guardian of the sea and the lover to the land keeps us serenely protected. Peacefully Violet protects the premise with a careful gaze. Her sidekick is the glowing moon, casting a spotlight over the city and the shuffling water of the lake. Her calm demeanor is a trained patience, her beauty is a tool of disguise.
Violet is our ever present empress that keep the fictionalized world in harmony. She is the gateway between the real and the imaginary, she keeps this domain well calibrated. She keeps the evil spirits and invisible ghosts at bay, she keeps the changing scene of the neighborhood in balance, not letting the old hold back the new, not letting the new technological wave run over the humble traditions of the block. Under her stare, nothing can slip past, not through the troubled sea or in the excitement of the city’s lights. Her vigilance is unwaving, her guard remains unchallenged. She is our protection against gentrification.
Her pantone of cool is elusive, the backdrop dark, her personality mysterious. Her charm is hidden underneath a mask of nonchalance, her strength is in the subtle reproach of her eyes.
Violet is the manifestation of the line between the unseen motivators, and the realistic hurdles to our dreams. Violet is a muse, a mermaid of fastidious strength and stamina, a symbol of limitless imagination, the proof that nothing is impossible. She guards the entrance way, allowing us a tangible symbol of what we try to achieve behind closed doors, tucked away from the daylight in a kitchen, pouring out the contents of our imagination and skill through simple ingredients.
Her dualistic existence motivates our imagination and challenges the seemingly shortcomings dominated by physical space. Violet is our very own personal superhero, a symbol of motivation, and inspiration for imagination.
Rosie the Riveter
My diamond lens
The kaleidoscope to my perspective
My sexy sidekick
My modern motif
You make the world beauty
And simply stated.
I have magnets embedded in my fingers. Tiny yet powerful metallic pearls are in each of my fingertips, creating an imaginary disruptive pull that corrupts all things electronic or even modern. It is like my heart is made of aluminum and my capillaries copper, but my fragile glass hands and plastic butterfingers interrupt the flow and break everything imaginary. That is why technology and I are at odds. We are arch nemesis because we repel each other stronger and definitively.
When I am around other people with their phones, computers, cameras, smart anything, I have to remember to keep my hands closed as to not disrupt their virtual communications. If the word gets out about my tremendously terrible affect on all things technological, I will loose all friends, both real and imaginary.
This is why when you see me, my hands are clutched, straining to keep the world in virbatious and magnetic order.